Conspiracy Boy (Angel Academy) Read online

  “What are you doing?”

  “Escaping.”

  “I see.” As I grabbed a letter opener and messed with the latch on the French doors, Luc gazed on calmly. “You do realize Lori put a containment charm on the whole house, yes?”

  I quit fiddling. “Say what?”

  “As soon as Jackson moved in,” he confirmed. “She did the bedroom as well, though I’m not certain that one took.”

  No kidding that one didn’t take. She probably stuck an assassin beacon in the closet so Petra would come kill me. The wench.

  Defeated, my hands fell to my sides. “Do you ever have the feeling your teachers are out to get you?”

  “Frequently,” Luc said. “But since I’ve only had private tutors and ended up shagging several of them, that’s unsurprising.”

  I made a face at him.

  It still wasn’t clear to me which part of his bravado was fact and which was fantasy, but I’d known Luc long enough to realize that if he was getting all ego snarky, he must be pretty stressed. The attitude did nothing to settle me.

  “In about five minutes, we’re going to be chin-deep in a crapstorm,” I informed him, “and Jack told me to stall. Also, what does pax paritur bello mean to you?”

  “It means I should have studied my Latin more diligently. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  The door cracked open behind us, so I quickly stashed the letter opener in my belt loop. Instead of Jack, as I had expected, Dane poked his head in, followed by a guard I’d never seen before.

  “They’re ready,” he said. “Jack and I’ll be in the atrium with Lori.” He paused a moment then added, “Please don’t blow up the atrium.”

  Luc held out his hand. “Shall we?”

  For a second, I looked at it, conflicted.

  I still didn’t know how deep our power connection went or if it was strong enough to hold a portal despite his Trilauden dose. The phrase Tyrannus had given me sounded like an exit locus code, but I had no clue to where. If things got weird, I could try to make a jump. But the last thing I wanted was to end up like Mom, trying to jump and ending up with an injured bondmate.

  “Crudmonkey,” I muttered and grabbed his hand.

  The guard didn’t seem to notice the pale thread of power that swirled around us. Or if he did, he was good at pretending. Luc trailed after him and Dane into the hallway until another set of guards took up their post behind us.

  I tried not to panic as Dane gave me a kiss on the forehead. “Just get through this, okay? In as few pieces as possible.”

  “I’m shooting for one.”

  “Smashing.” With a wink, he retreated to the atrium door and vanished through it.

  Yeah, we were going to die.

  I glanced around as the guards led us into the main hall, taking stock of the situation. There were six of them, plus the ones I’d seen earlier. That made a cool dozen, all armed to the teeth. If they got rowdy, I could probably take them out before they hurt anyone. Assuming I didn’t mind going evil from the power draw and potentially missing the opportunity to kill Luc.

  Kill Luc.

  My fingers tightened around his.

  Above us, dust motes glittered in the chandelier light, reflecting circular dots of white fire onto the overdressed crowd. The Immortal Synod members I’d seen at St. Michael’s were there, as were a select few of the Guardian Council. Horowitz clearly hadn’t been invited, but Akira stood nearby, her white formal robes an imposing contrast next to Seamus’s garish kilt and scarf combo. There weren’t as many attendees as I’d expected, although given the venue change, it made sense a few would have to bow out.

  But it wasn’t the small crowd that bothered me so much as the people who were missing—specifically, Henry and my father.

  I was still seventeen, so the Guardian Council wasn’t technically allowed to conduct any ritual without parental and school consent. That’s why I couldn’t fully bond with Jack until after my birthday, and also why Arianna had made such a big deal of sending out those ridiculous invitations to Luc’s reception for the Sovereign Trials. Apparently, all that had gone out the window since they had moved the date up.

  My eyes scanned the perimeter of the room.

  Jack was also missing. And Marcus, my other trainer at school. In fact, apart from Tyrannus, there wasn’t a single person in the room I trusted.

  Well, except for Luc, but at the moment, I felt more worried for him than concerned with how he could help me. Luc’s eyes darted around the room, much like mine must have been doing a minute ago, and I watched him come to the same conclusion about our screwedness.

  “This may not end well,” he said.

  “Is that my cue to say, ‘I told you so’?” I asked as the guards corralled us into the center of the room.

  Arianna moved forward, taking my hands in hers. A soft cloud of lavender and lilies wafted around her hair. Incongruous as it sounded, she smelled like a mom.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” She tapped the pendant at my neck that held the family crest. “And I thank you for your assistance. Stay close to each other. It’ll be over shortly.”

  I nodded.

  Her words sounded sincere, and she obviously believed them. I just couldn’t figure out if that was because she thought we’d triumph easily, or because she’d already bought real estate at the ancestral cemetery.

  Everyone waited until Arianna had returned to the well-dressed clump of Immortals, then an uber-pale guy in red robes stepped up. I recognized him as the Immortal douche bag from the summit at school. Crud, what was his name? Leonard? Leopold?

  “Although we are few in number, our people are rich in tradition,” he announced in an accent that sounded vaguely European. “That tradition includes strong leadership, excellent character, and domination over all those who seek to defeat us.”

  I felt myself zoning out as he slipped into French and then into something decidedly ancient sounding. With the young guys and the red Jedi-style robes, the whole thing felt a bit like fraternity hazing. It wouldn’t have shocked me at all if a dude with a paddle and a beer bong started making the rounds.

  Eventually, the albino guy worked his way back to English.

  “Luc Alexandre Montaigne,” he bellowed, louder than necessary for a crowd that size. “Confront your fate.”

  The room fell silent as Luc took a step forward and the robed man moved to meet him. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes at the pompousness.

  “Luc Alexandre,” he proclaimed. “Son of Dominic Alexandre Montaigne, grandson of Alastair Augustus Montaigne, great-grandson of Randolph Alexandre Montaigne—”

  I took a nap internally.

  “—do you vow to defend the Immortal Sovereign throne, forsaking all ties and releasing all worldly attachments in the service of our people? Do you promise to honor the code of Immortal royalty, adhering to the principals of perseverance, diligence, and loyalty in everything you do? Do you swear to uphold each value of our covenant—”

  “Lenaeus,” Arianna interrupted, thank God. “Must we stand so heavily on ritual? Not everyone in this room is Immortal, and I fear some may die from boredom before we commence.”

  Awkward laughter tittered over the crowd, and Pale Guy frowned. Apparently, the stick up his butt was fashioned out of pure ritual, so yes, he needed to stand on it. Or sit on it, at least.

  “Lenaeus”—Luc waved a hand at Arianna—“like my grandfather before me, and his father before him, I vow to defend the Immortal throne from all who might threaten it, to stand by the principles that make our people great, and to work diligently for the preservation of our legacy.”

  Arianna’s smile broadened and her shoulders squared, like a proud momma whose kid just won the school spelling bee.

  “You would sacrifice all for our legacy?” Lenaeus asked.

  It might have been my imagination, but I’m pretty sure Annabelle’s face got even more pinched as he spoke. She flicked a glance at Arianna, but otherwise sta
yed silent.

  “My life is offered in the service of our people,” Luc said carefully. “It has never been otherwise.”

  “That bodes well,” Arianna said, her features tightening. “Tyrannus?”

  In silence, Luc’s guard pressed forward and handed a very dangerous-looking metal crossbow to Annabelle, who drew the quarrel bolt back with one hand. Not coincidentally, Akira and the other Elders chose that moment to fade toward the rear exit. In any other circumstance, that might have relaxed me. Smaller crowd means less collateral damage, right? But since they were supposed to be the ones looking out for my well-being, I couldn’t quite feel the happy vibe.

  Without speaking, I reached for the pendant Luc had given me, smooth and warm around my neck. It seemed to hum with energy.

  “Some say the measure of a ruler lies in his ability to make difficult decisions,” Arianna said. “Effective leadership requires sacrifice. Sacrifice, though never simple, is necessary.” She paused to let the ideal sink in as Annabelle stepped forward to hand the crossbow to Luc. “In the past, our leaders have brought us through wars, economic strife, and oppression by humans, yet always, we manage to survive. Consequently, it has become a tradition of the Sovereign Trials to find that characteristic—that aspect of heroism—which is most lacking in the royal dauphin, and challenge him against it. If he is able to prove his character as strength, then he will triumph.”

  Luc’s face had taken on a decidedly nervous expression, very unusual for him. I felt myself closing the space between us, as if one extra inch would make the difference if things were about to get awful.

  “Luc.” Arianna stepped forward, leveling her gaze at her son. “It has come to the attention of our leaders that there is a traitor in our midst. One who would plot our people’s destruction and orchestrate an end to all that we have built. Do you know of such a plot?”

  Luc slid a sideways glance at me, and I didn’t need the pendant to tell me he had the same questions I did—What does she know? And how?

  Before either of us could formulate a response, the far door to the parlor opened and Arianna’s guards entered.

  “What is this?” Luc stepped closer, shielding me behind him.

  “Highness,” Annabelle said with a low glare at Luc, “the Synod doesn’t question whether you would die for the Immortal people. They know you would. Our question is whether you would kill for them.”

  Luc’s mother gave Annabelle a chastising look. “Luc, the Synod has conferred and determined that your greatest weakness lies not in your ability to sacrifice.”

  “Our questions rather concern your tendency toward blind compassion,” Lenaeus cut in. “A leader is only as strong as the force he is willing to exert. We have tolerated your dalliance with this group of misfits you’ve trained. The Society, is it? However, if you cannot enforce the rules—defend the Immortal ideals of unification and loyalty—then you are useless to the throne.”

  Luc frowned, eyeing the crossbow in his hand. “Compassion isn’t a weakness.”

  Lenaeus frowned. “Lady Montaigne?”

  Without speaking, two of Arianna’s guards approached me from behind, forcing me to my knees. A third wrapped a cord around my wrists until they pressed tightly together behind my back.

  “What is this?” Luc demanded. “You want me to kill my own fledgling? She’s done nothing wrong.”

  “She plots our demise,” Arianna argued. “You’ve sworn your life to protect our species, Luc. I ask only that you uphold that promise. It is a requirement of any ruler.”

  “Luc?” I said, trying not to panic. As long as Luc—and not Annabelle—held the crossbow, I had a chance. Besides, Jack was still working on a plan, right? “I’m not plotting against you guys. I’ve never done anything to hurt the Immortals—not intentionally, anyway.”

  “You seek to fulfill Gabriel’s prophecy,” Lenaeus said. “The final chapter, as it were.”

  I felt myself go silent for a moment. Luc stilled beside me as well. How did he know that? “The prophecy has nothing to do with you.”

  “So, you don’t deny it?” Annabelle strode toward me and yanked the pendant from my neck. “Of course you can’t. We’ve tracked every move you’ve made.”

  “Annabelle,” Arianna chastened. “Be silent.”

  “She’s not worthy to wear this crest. It makes me sick to see it on her,” Annabelle whined, turning back to me. “Every day, I have to remind myself it’s only there so we can watch you. How else were we supposed to see the ridiculous plans you’re hatching?”

  I frowned, understanding crystallizing in my head. They’d been listening? Watching? Through everything? “You were spying on me? How? I thought only Luc could—”

  “Anyone with Montaigne blood, you idiot,” Annabelle said. “Did you really think we’d allow you into our home without monitoring you? How stupid do you think we are?”

  “Enough,” Arianna snapped, saving me from answering that last question. “How we got our information is irrelevant. The fact remains that you are a traitor, and traitors are not tolerated in our midst.”

  “I’m not a traitor,” I said. “I’m a Guardian.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Luc interrupted. “I won’t murder an innocent in the service of our species’ self-importance. If Immortals are meant to survive the prophecy, we will.” He tossed the crossbow at Annabelle’s feet and took my arm. “If this is the test then, regrettably, I must decline the throne. I shall not be sovereign. The trial is over.”

  “On the contrary,” Lenaeus said. “It has just begun.”

  Without a word, Annabelle snatched up the weapon and handed it to Arianna.

  It’s not that I didn’t see it coming. More that I didn’t quite believe it. Even as Arianna’s finger slid into the trigger, I still didn’t entirely register what was happening. Not until the bolt clicked did the gravity of it hit me.

  They wanted me dead.

  They knew about the prophecy. I was supposed to take Luc to the Crossworlds and kill him. As long as I lived, that future could still be fulfilled. So I needed to die, here on the mortal plane. That’s why the Trials had been moved up.

  Time seemed to slow as the bolt slipped out of its cradle, hurtling toward me. I have to imagine Luc knew what was coming. If he didn’t, there’s no way he could have reacted in time. I actually felt the breeze of it pass by as Luc shoved me out of the way, twisting his body into the space I had just occupied. With a thud, it entered his chest, and he dropped to the floor, motionless.

  “No,” I screamed. “No, no, no.”

  I squirmed to my knees again, twitching toward Luc’s body, but Tyrannus held me in place. Probably a good thing, since my natural instinct would have been to wiggle free of the binds and channel Arianna’s face into a vengeful smudge.

  Inside my head, blood pounded furiously. How badly was he hurt? How long did I have before his soul went too far to call it back?

  Annabelle smiled as Arianna lowered the weapon and turned to the remaining attendees. “Friends and honored guests,” Luc’s mother said. “Let us retire to the foyer for cocktails as the trial concludes. Annabelle?”

  The Montaignes’ handmaid stepped over Luc’s body to begin ushering guests into the atrium. The sounds of merrymaking and wineglasses clinking filled the air.

  Ugh, did I mention the vengeful urge?

  “You’re despicable,” I told her. “You killed him.”

  “On the contrary,” she said. “You killed him.”

  “Me? How?”

  “Well, you were supposed to die. Now he’s dead and you’re alive, yes?”

  I gaped at her, all self-righteous and bone-chilling. “He’s your son. How can you be so cold?”

  “Cold?” Arianna frowned at the dying body of her only child, as if she hadn’t considered this fact before. “Perhaps you should thank me. At least his blood is on my hands, and not yours.”

  Then she cocked her head to the side, took two steps forward, and planted a rough k
iss on my lips.

  “Enjoy your immortality,” she said, “for a few more minutes, at least. I shall enjoy mine for eternity.”

  Chapter Seventeen:

  Die for Me

  Gunderman once told us in a Humanology lecture that in the wake of a major loss, mortals go through five stages of mourning. I remember it vividly, because when Mom died, that had totally happened to me. Knowing the steps helped to be able to organize it—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—in that order. Sure, you might bounce around between them, but in the end, you’d always end up at acceptance.

  Or you’d self-destruct.

  No joke, I think I experienced all five stages in the space of about seven seconds.

  “Luc.” I fell to my knees beside him, awkwardly working at my wrist binds. Blood spilled out of his chest in weak pulses, staining his shirt a shocking shade of red.

  My brain had morphed into a hive of angry bees, alive and buzzing. Or maybe that was the swarm of people still exiting the room, I couldn’t tell. A line of guards had taken up a protective half circle around me and Luc, blocking us against the silk-papered wall. I’m not sure whether they wanted to keep us trapped or keep the attendees away from Luc as they filed out, but the function was the same.

  I think the thing that struck me most was the tone of their exodus. It wasn’t fearful or shocked or indignant. If anything, it sounded like a normal cocktail party where someone had suggested they all go grab a snack in the next room. I even heard a few chuckles as they left.

  “Salve pacem.”

  The bolt made a harsh sucking sound when I finally got rid of my wrist ties and drew it out. Channeling was out for the moment, but I filled the gaps in his heart with whispered bond magic, the tissues knitting together inside him.

  It had to be whispered. As far as these people knew, I had no powers and no access to a Crossworlds channel. If I started spouting offensive spells and healing charms, they would know the Otrava hadn’t taken. They would realize Tyrannus had betrayed the Synod and probably kill us all for treason.